


don’t be silly, pedro

by dandelionlighters



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25039234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionlighters/pseuds/dandelionlighters
Summary: Soulmate AU where you can remember everything about your soulmate. Every conversation. Every look. Every moment.—Josie could distinctly remember when this had all started: with Landon knowing that Hope liked whipped cream at the bottom of her Peanut Butter Blast.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 34
Kudos: 614





	don’t be silly, pedro

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoy :)

Josie shifted in her seat for what felt like the tenth time that evening, drumming her fingers along the dull wood of the library table. She took a brief pause to examine the sunny yellow polish on her nails, which were already chipping at the edges.

_Crap_. 

It was just last night that she had painted them on with Lizzie. 

Pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth, Josie snuck a glance at her sister’s own nails, which were baby-blue and decidedly not chipped. 

_Hmm_. 

“Josie, this is important. Are you paying attention?” Those same baby-blue nails snapped twice in front of her face, drawing the siphoner out of her thoughts. 

Josie blinked back to reality with an apologetic smile, embarrassed at being called out. “Yeah, sorry.” 

She then blushed when she realized that everyone at the table was staring at her. Landon had even stopped halfway through his little speech on the new monster that they needed to take care of. And _Hope_...

Well, Hope was looking at her with that familiar, unreadable expression Josie could never seem to interpret. Her eyebrows were furrowed, the set of her jaw firm and taut. Yet, for just a second, the siphoner saw something flicker across her expressionless mask, like...worry? 

That couldn’t be right. 

When the tribrid finally noticed that Josie had caught her staring, she only snapped up a tight-lipped smile that dropped within seconds. Josie’s heart dropped, too, and she looked away. 

“Okay....” Landon trailed off, his eyebrows lowering from the top of his hairline. He leaned up from his seat to take a better look at the old mythology book on the table. “Legend says that it’s nearly impossible to hunt a wendigo. They’re extremely fast—faster than vampires—and don’t like to stay in one place for longer than a minute at a time, so our odds of catching It are fairly slim...” 

He trailed off again, whirling his head at Pedro, who was sitting in the middle of the table with his legs crossed underneath him. The teenagers all surrounded the boy. 

“Pedro, are you sure you saw one?” he asked, running a hand through his black curls. Pedro nodded quickly in earnest. 

“I swear,” he said, pointing to the faded illustration of a wendigo on the book. Josie found his large, doe eyes adorable, and she briefly wondered how Landon could even doubt the boy. “It looked exactly like that.” 

The picture in question was that of a gangly, foul monster, whose ribs and bones protruded almost sickly from clumps of fur and nearly-transparent skin. Its arms and legs were grossly disproportionate to the rest of Its body, allowing the monster to appear deceptively tall. Its head was also round and long, giving an eerie resemblance to a human skull. 

Basically, it was super ugly.

Josie’s stomach twisted just looking at the illustration, and she suddenly felt really bad for Pedro, who had seen the monster in person. 

Poor Pedro...

The super squad had been researching in the library, hitting the books for a plan to destroy Malivore, when the boy had come running inside—screaming something about a monster in the woods outside his bedroom window. 

Normally, he would have gone straight to the headmaster’s quarters, but Alaric was currently out on business with some of the rest of the teachers, so that left Pedro to call upon the older children. 

“...It has no conscious thought, no sense of wrong or right. It’s basically ruled only by Its’ hunger for human flesh.” Oh. When had Landon started talking again? “If the wendigo came from the Malivore pit, there’s a good chance It’s starving, and...” 

He gestured to the book again. “It says here that a wendigo can kill dozens before feeling full or satisfied. Once It does, It can go into hibernation for years before It starts to feel hungry again—“ 

“So we should go find It before that happens,” Hope cut in, standing from her seat so swiftly that the chair almost fell behind her. She didn’t linger to check if it was okay, already moving away from the table. Josie followed the tribrid’s line of sight: the exit of the library. 

_That_ immediately made Josie rub at her forehead tiredly. Sometimes Hope’s lack of self-preservation and total affinity for throwing herself into dangerous situations without a care to her own safety was _beyond_ annoying. 

“No.” Landon shook his head, stopping the tribrid in her tracks. Josie was suddenly grateful for him. “We don’t hunt It. _It_ hunts _us_.” 

Across the library, a piece of paper fell to the floor and the entire group heard it. 

“I think that, if we can form a game plan and set up some kind of trap, we might be able to capture It, but we shouldn’t do anything until we know what we’re dealing with,” the boy continued, his eyes hopeful and aiming to please—or impress? Josie couldn’t tell—as they landed on the tribrid. 

Everyone else swallowed thickly as they waited for Hope’s reaction, but she didn’t seem to be listening. She was already walking away, throwing over her shoulder, “I don’t think so. I’ll take care of It. Alone.” 

Lizzie immediately stood up to pull her back. “Did you not hear anything Chicken Little just said? It’s not safe. Running headfirst into danger isn’t going to do anything but get you killed.” 

Josie peeked over at Landon, who had his head cocked to the side with a scowl on his lips. Next to him, Rafael spoke, “Yeah, Hope, don’t you remember what Lan said?” 

His question was obvious, and Landon flushed. 

Josie knew exactly what they were doing—she knew exactly what Rafael _meant_ by that. 

Ever since the tribrid had saved Rafael from being exorcised by his foster parents, he had devoted all of his time to trying to get Hope to admit that Landon and her were soulmates. 

But Josie could see that Rafael’s desperate attempts at being the cool, supportive wing-man for his brother only made Hope uncomfortable. And, in all honestly, Josie was starting to get a little uncomfortable, too. 

It wasn’t like she _cared_ about Hope or Landon being soulmates or anything, but she didn’t need to be reminded of it at every waking moment and at every turn and at every chance. 

Josie could distinctly remember when this had all started—with Landon knowing that Hope liked whipped cream at the bottom of her Peanut Butter Blast.

Of course, that tiny, tiny detail didn’t mean anything. 

_Everyone_ knew that Hope liked whipped cream at the bottom of her Peanut Butter Blast, Josie told herself, time and time again. 

It wasn’t like the universe had intertwined Landon and Hope’s fate lines together, it wasn’t like their very souls were bonded. 

Not over a milkshake, at least. 

Without consciously meaning to, Josie let out a scoff. Every head at the table instantly whipped to hers, including Hope’s. 

The siphoner turned pink again, dropping her gaze to the wood of the table. She desperately searched for something to say, for something to distract from her little slip-up. When she spoke, she found that she couldn’t quite look Hope in the eye. “Landon’s right. Maybe we should wait until Dad gets back before we do anything...”

“Sounds like a plan,” MG chirped up, but everyone ignored him. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Josie thought that Hope looked kind of disappointed. She had a frown on her face, and she was drawing her eyebrows together in that way she always tended to do. “Seriously, Jo?” 

Only then did Josie meet Hope’s eyes, and instantly regretted it. She flattened her hands against the table and tried to tell herself that she wasn’t suddenly feeling winded and breathless. 

But Hope’s gaze stayed on her like a furnace, and Josie could only pretend that she wasn’t _burning, burning, burning..._

She had never been very good at pretending. 

The siphoner bit the inside of her cheek, looking to her sister for support. That didn’t go so well either. 

“I don’t know what you’re looking at. Mikaelson has a point,” Lizzie said, looking at Josie like she was between three and four years of age and the blonde was about to teach her a lesson. “I’m a self-proclaimed daddy’s girl and even _I_ know that’s not a good idea.” 

Josie huffed, fuming silently. Of course Lizzie wouldn’t back her up. She never had before. Why had the brunette expected differently this time? 

“If anything, we need to prove to him that we can do this on our own.” Lizzie put her hands on her hips, looking over the entire group. “Birdboy, what were you saying about setting up a trap?” 

“Oh, so it’s _Birdboy_ , now?” Landon’s lips curled into a sneer of sorts, unamused. Hmm. Josie hadn’t thought he had a backbone until now. 

Lizzie shrugged and crossed her arms. “Birdboy or Chicken Little. You choose.” 

Landon folded his own arms across his chest.

“Let’s see...how many nicknames does that make?” He stuck his hands out in front of him, as if to count. He then lifted up a finger for each name. “You’ve called me Garden Gnome. Birdbrain. Mudboy. Popeyes Family Meal. Thrift Store Hobbit. Mopheaded Elf. Hope’s Personal KFC Buffet. Happy Feet. Muppet. Big Bird’s Alter Ego.” 

He waggled his ten fingers pointedly. “And last, but certainly not least, Sentient Jar of Artisanal Mayonnaise.” 

“Impressive.” Lizzie looked him up and down with a pleased smile. 

“Did I miss any?” A smile flickered at his own lips. 

“Guys,” Josie pulled them away from their own little world, standing up from her chair as she twisted her body left and right in search of—

“Where did Hope go?” 

Damn it. Looking around, Josie couldn’t see the tribrid anywhere inside the library. However, by the exit, she could just barely make out a head of auburn hair disappearing. 

Without another thought, Josie pushed in her chair and ran after the other girl, completely missing Rafael and Landon’s conversation behind her. 

“Dude, what was that with Lizzie?” 

“I...I don’t know...” 

—

“Hope!” Josie called after the tribrid, her breathing run ragged from the exertion of running for more than thirty seconds. 

She really _hadn’t_ exercised in a while.

Hope spun around so quickly that Josie almost bumped into her, and she blushed as Hope placed two firm hands on her shoulders to steady the siphoner. She tried her best to ignore the tingling sensation they left when the tribrid finally let go of her. 

“What are you doing?” Hope’s eyes flashed the second she realized that Josie had followed her out here. Josie thought she saw a glimpse of gold in them, but she couldn’t be sure. “Go back inside.” 

“I’m here to help,” Josie said, still panting as she tried to catch her breath. She gestured out in front of them, where the treeline of the forest began a few feet away. She gulped as she realized what may lay inside it. “The squad’s right behind me.” 

Confusion flickered in those dark, blue eyes. Hope asked, “The squad?”

The siphoner tilted her head. She tried to jog Hope’s memory. “You know, the super squad.” 

The tribrid didn’t bat an eye. 

“Landon’s been mentioning it, like, nonstop,” Josie tried again and laughed, but mostly in disbelief. Did Hope really not remember? 

“Oh,” Hope breathed, not looking particularly interested. Josie’s paranoid brain thought she heard a branch snap and grabbed the other girl’s hands with her own, pulling her closer. 

Their eyes met almost urgently. 

“Josie—“ 

“Hope.” Her throat suddenly closed up, and she had to take a second to swallow the lump of emotion there before speaking again. “Are you and Landon—“

Footsteps like a thousand bulls crossing a fieldall at once sounded behind them. Both girls stepped away and turned towards the noise, with Hope stepping in front of Josie protectively. 

Josie hated it. 

“Never fear,” Lizzie declared loudly as she made her presence known, almost like she was trying to personally summon the wendigo herself. She led the group with MG, Landon, Rafael, and Kaleb right behind her. “The _real_ heroes are here.” 

Hope and Josie rolled their eyes, sharing a secret, amused smile that the rest of their friends missed completely. Instead, the boys and Lizzie formed a circle around the two girls, throwing ideas out about how to catch the wendigo. 

The siphoner secretly adored the camaraderie of it all, but she scrunched up her face a second later when Kaleb and MG moved and revealed someone hiding behind them. 

“You brought _Pedro_?” she hissed at Lizzie, who had to look over to double-check for herself. The blonde widened her eyes and shook her head. 

“Of course not, he’s a child,” she whispered back quietly, and then raised her voice for the small boy to hear. “Pedro, go back to bed.” 

Pedro crossed his arms petulantly and stood his ground. “No way.” 

“And I’m nine,” he added, like an afterthought. Hmm. It looked like Lizzie hadn’t been so quiet after all. “I’m basically a grown-up.” 

“Turning nine,” Josie and Lizzie cut in at the same time and giggled, which made Pedro puff out his chest to appear bigger. 

It didn’t work. 

A distant scream, long and low, echoed from within the woods and sent a shiver down every spine it touched. Josie felt her stomach turn and connected her eyes to her sister’s for comfort. 

“Was that...?” Her mouth ran dry. Lizzie couldn’t even finish her sentence. 

“That sounded human,” MG remarked, his voice wavering slightly. “What if someone needs help?” 

“It’s a trick.” Landon was sure. “Wendigos can imitate human voices, usually to lure in their victims. We need to think of something to trick It back.” 

Hope was already storming her way into the woods. Unbelievable. Josie sighed and chased after her again. 

“Fine. Pedro, we don’t have time, you’re coming with,” Lizzie told the eager boy, who smiled widely as if he was happy about being put in danger. “Landon, Raf, stay in front of him. Kaleb, MG, in back. The two of you better not take your eyes off of him for a single nanosecond or so help me—“ 

“Got it,” Kaleb interrupted. He bumped shoulders with Landon as the other boy passed him, saying, “Hey, congrats, man. This is the first time she called you by your actual name.” 

Landon didn’t think he’d ever forget it. 

Lizzie pretended not to hear. 

Over at the front of the group, Josie was unsuccessfully trying to convince Hope to stop looking for trouble. 

“Please, we don’t even know what Its’ weakness is,” she was telling her, but every word she spoke fell on deaf ears. Hope just shrugged. 

“Look, Jo, if you’re scared, no one’s stopping you from hanging in the back with Pedro,” she said, a small smirk on her face that begged Josie to wipe it off. 

“I’m not scared,” she snapped, even as her ears continued to ring with phantom screams. A tree swayed to her left and she nearly tripped over herself, which made Hope chuckle silently. “I just think you’re being very careless right now.” 

She glanced back at the group just behind her, catching a glimpse of Lizzie holding Pedro’s hand. She smiled at Rafael, who caught her gaze by accident, and then turned back. 

Josie didn’t have enough time to prepare herself before Landon forced himself between her and Hope and stood as unmoving as a stone statue. 

Josie stumbled a few inches forward but balanced herself quickly enough that no one caught it. Or so she hoped. 

“Everyone stop,” Landon whispered, voice lower than the chirping of the crickets around them. Josie realized that it had gotten so dark that she could barely make out the bird’s nest of his hair. 

Her eyes soon adjusted, though, and she briefly caught the greens of his own as they swirled with something close to fear. 

“Do you guys hear that?” he asked, when it got quiet enough. In truth, Josie could only hear the sound of her heart beating loudly in her ears. 

Hope, Rafael, and the vampires of the group nodded, while the rest stayed silent and searching. 

“That’s the wendigo call the book described,” Landon explained. “It means we’re getting closer.” 

Not for the first time that night, he said, “We should stop and think of a plan.” 

This time he meant it. 

Josie nodded along with him, squinting her eyes as she tried to think. “Okay, what do we know?” 

“It’s fast,” Landon answered. “It only slows down to eat. That’s probably the best time to strike. And wendigos have one weakness: fire.” 

Nervous from all the attention on him, the boy added, “I think.” 

“So, you’re saying we should use someone as bait?” Hope asked slowly, a wrinkle forming in the space between her eyebrows as she thought about it. Josie almost reached over to smooth the skin out for her, before deciding that now probably wasn’t the right time. 

“I say we take it to a vote,” Lizzie put in, her throat visibly bobbing. At once, she glanced up and set her eyes on Landon. “All in favor of kicking Kirby to the curb, don’t move.” 

Stuck in shock at the blonde’s nerve, no one moved. 

“It’s settled.” 

Landon looked kind of offended—but mostly hurt—at being singled out. He accepted his fate nonetheless, as if Lizzie hadn’t just offered him up to be wendigo food. 

“Wait,” Hope spoke up. “We don’t actually need to use someone as bait. What if we just... _pretended_ to?” 

“It sounds like you just said the same thing twice,” Lizzie remarked dryly. Josie had to admit—she didn’t get it either. 

Hope ignored the blonde. 

“Landon,” she said, “didn’t you say that It preys after the smell of human flesh?

“Well, not in those _exact_ words—“

“Great,” she cut him off. “What if we could mimic the smell and distract It?” 

Josie caught on quickly, now. 

“That sounds...” She smiled, a little impressed. Her gaze was meaningful when it fell on Hope. “Not careless.” 

Hope smiled back, just the bare corners of her lips snapping up, before Lizzie ruined the moment. 

“Um, does anyone else see the tribrid-sized hole in that plan?” the blonde asked. Josie watched Hope crinkle her nose in distaste, but not for the reason she originally thought. “How are we supposed to do that?” 

Just as Lizzie finished speaking, an awful, putrid stench brought tears to Josie’s eyes. It briefly reminded her of the smell of an animal carcass, of _death_ , but she couldn’t quite place it. All the same, it stung her nose like fire and she found herself holding her breath. 

“Yuck.” Lizzie gagged. “I know I’m not the only one—“

She was interrupted by a scream, but this time it came so close that Josie wasn’t sure if it had been uttered right behind her or if it had come from she herself. 

Then, a flash of something white and decaying streaked across the line of trees around them, but it moved too fast for the siphoner to catch a single glimpse. She froze, rooted to her spot. 

“Josie!” Hope called, from nearby, or was she miles away? “Do you remember that spell you used, two years ago, around summer time?” 

Josie swallowed, the question enough to distract her away from her rising panic, and she blinked to think of a response. 

She couldn’t find one. Could Hope have been any more vague? Josie had performed countless spells over her lifetime, hundreds in the last week. 

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Hope,” she clipped, voice thick, her throat feeling scrubbed raw with a dull knife. 

“The scent-changing one?” Hope clarified, without much clarity. Josie thought she heard Lizzie making a passing comment on what they needed to do and it not being taking a trip down memory lane. 

“It was when your dad forced the vampires to go out on a camping trip as some sort of faction-bonder,” the tribrid continued. Josie could barely think over the intense buzzing in her left ear, in her right ear, in her head, all around her. 

God. It was _everywhere_. 

Hope started talking faster and faster, words coming together and running into one another as if she was nervous. But that didn’t make sense. How could she be nervous? She was _Hope_. “And they decided to go fishing, but they didn’t want to eat any of the fish they caught, so they left it all in the common area for everyone else to have?” 

Josie nodded numbly, trying to keep track of the buzzing around her and the white blur streaking everywhere and nowhere at once. 

“But by the time they actually got back in the morning, the fish had gone bad and it smelled really awful.” Hope chuckled, that same anxious, rushed sound to her voice as she tried to remind Josie. “And the werewolves had started to complain about the smell, so you siphoned from me and made everything smell like cookies and brownies instead?” 

Josie nodded. She remembered that. How could she ever forget? 

She couldn’t. 

She could still distinctly remember the feeling of Hope’s hand in hers, the feeling of their skin humming pleasantly as magic flowed from Hope to Josie, warm and soothing, like a sink faucet that never ran cold or out of water. 

Josie had never needed to hold Hope’s hand while siphoning, but she could never resist the allure of being palm-to-palm and skin-to-skin with the other girl. She could never turn away from the pulse of magic just below the surface of skin, _thudding_ and _thumping_ like phantom beats of her heart. 

“You were wearing those silk pajamas that you had bought during your anime phase,” Hope ranted, “with the red and white Japanese letters? When I asked how you knew the spell, you said that you learned it from—“ 

“Aunt Bonnie showed me it,” Josie cut her off, breathless, head spinning with the memory. 

Her chest ached for the time that had passed since then. Had it really been two years? It felt like two minutes, and her chest grew impossibly tighter. She chose to call the feeling nostalgia, because to call it anything else might make her forget.

“Guys!” Lizzie yelled to get their attention. The white blur circled them, closed in on them, became a part of them, with every passing second. “Not to ruin the moment or anything, but I’m pretty sure we’re about to be eaten.” 

Josie snapped her hand out and found Hope’s own without looking, because they had known this dance for years, now. Josie found it as easy as learning how to breathe, as learning how to walk, as learning the steps to the Miss Mystic Falls Pageant waltz. 

She clenched her eyes shut, the warmth of glowing red against the backs of her lids, and summoned the smell of burning flesh and crimson copper around them. She tried to spread the smell both as close and as far as she could, spanning hundreds of trees and dirt. 

The spell did its job. 

The sudden, all-consuming smell confused the wendigo, who had stopped moving in order to figure out what had just happened. It couldn’t fathom the new assault on Its senses, and tilted Its head to the side in wonder.

When Josie opened her eyes, she got her first, still look at the monster. 

It was like the illustration in the book but It wasn’t at the same time. It was somehow even more terrifying and ten times worse, with a mouth of yellow fangs like two rows of daggers and eyes like red, beady marbles. 

What was even scarier, maybe, was that It towered over the entire group, half as tall as the tree It stood in front of. If Josie had to guess, she would say that It looked to be at least twelve feet in height. 

Unwittingly, she tightened her grip of Hope’s hand, which had stopped glowing red the second she had stopped siphoning. Yet, she still felt the tribrid’s power within her, lingering there, like heat and fire and nothing Josie ever wanted to end. 

She brought her free hand up and delicately conjured a ball of flames with the residual magic, only letting go of Hope’s own hand to send the ball the wendigo’s way. 

The wendigo caught on fire and burst into ashes and soot in next to no time, and when It screamed, It no longer sounded anywhere near human. 

The cries echoed into the forest long after the monster was gone. 

Josie found it all awfully anticlimactic. Then again, Landon had always been a little dramatic. 

“That was so cool!” Pedro whispered in a hushed voice behind Josie, as the flames slowly died out and as the group started walking back to the school. 

“Yeah, it’s not every day you see the super squad fight off a monster,” MG gloated with a wide grin on his face, as if he had been the one to singlehandedly kill the wendigo. 

“No, not that.” Pedro rolled his eyes, which made Josie’s brows shoot up in surprise at the boy’s attitude. 

“Oh.” MG sounded disappointed. “Then, what?” 

“That Hope remembered all of that.” He turned to Lizzie, tugging at her hand with excitement. Josie opened her mouth and closed it. “Don’t you think it’s cool, Lizzie?” 

“Don’t be silly, Pedro,” the blonde dismissed easily, patting his head. “Nothing Hope does is cool.” 

The tribrid bristled, flaring her nose and narrowing her eyes. Josie didn’t notice, since her mind was running about a hundred miles a minute. What was Pedro implying...? 

“Besides,” Lizzie added, as if trying to convince herself rather than the boy, “we’re a school for magic. We’re _supposed_ to remember spells.” 

Pedro frowned. “Why did Hope remember what pajamas Jo was wearing, then?”

”Because...”

There was a pause, there, where everyone in the group suddenly stopped walking, where some had stopped breathing, where Josie swore her heart had stopped beating. 

Lizzie’s words died on her tongue. She turned around slowly, so that she came face-to-face with Hope, who was standing next to Josie with her lips parted and her eyes wide. 

Josie couldn’t help but recall, almost as if to confirm Pedro’s suspicion, all the times that she had seen the tribrid like that—surprised and caught off guard—but there weren’t very many. Still, each instance came to her with perfect clarity. 

“Hey, Mikaelson,” Lizzie said, almost casually, but Josie could see the dread written clear across her face. “What color are Josie’s nails right now?” 

“I, uh—“ Hope stammered, swallowing desperately to clear her throat. Josie’s breath caught. 

“Don’t look. Just say it.” 

The tribrid smiled sadly. 

“Yellow,” she said. “They’re yellow.” 

A few feet away, Landon cursed underneath his breath. 

**Author's Note:**

> lizzie/landon endgame :)


End file.
